


Jealous Arthur

by Therg



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Multi, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Therg/pseuds/Therg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur gets jealous of the attention Merlin receives, and enjoys, at a royal feast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealous Arthur

Even a few months ago, the fact that visiting noble lady’s hand was slowly moving up his thigh would have made Arthur swell with pride; to have such a blatant show of lust and want towards him, from a beautiful, _experienced_ lady, and at a formal dinner… He knew from past experiences that the taboo of the situation under the lady’s practiced hand.

Now, however, he crossed his legs and brushed the hand away, ignoring the Lady Esme’s affronted murmurings as she turned to swoon over his father instead, saying he _simply must_ have her to stay more often or, even better, come to stay with her now her husband had, unfortunately, fallen in battle.

Under normal circumstances this would have sickened Arthur but all he could focus on now was the way in which all of Esme’s serving boys (for they were, Arthur wasn’t surprised to notice, all good looking young men – not a woman to be seen among them) seemed to be obsessed with Merlin. Arthur had insisted, as he always did, that the boy should wear that ridiculous formal wear – complete with the stupid hat. He always hoped that it would make Merlin less appealing to visiting men but it never seemed to.

Tonight, they practically swarmed all over the boy. They took delight in playing with the feather in his hat – twisting it to brush over Merlin’s face, laughing with unrestrained merriment when he sneezed and at how he blushed when they stroked his ears. Arthur longed to hear what they said to Merlin; whatever it was, he responded with his usual naivety and they easily drew animated responses from the boy.

Arthur was not normally a jealous man; he was Prince of Camelot, there was little that he couldn’t have and if there was anything that he wanted, he _always_ got it. He could have Merlin whenever he wanted – anytime! He had done so in the past, delighted in it. No, what made him jealous about Merlin was the irrational fear that someone else might get to have him.

That was something that he couldn’t allow. Merlin was his.  
He was surprised that everybody at this god-awful feast couldn’t tell that – couldn’t read his mind as he glared over in Merlin’s direction. Catching the boy’s eye, he lowered his eyebrows into a gentle frown and he could tell from the blush that spread across Merlin’s face that he knew _exactly_ what the prince was thinking.

Struck with a sudden inspiration, Arthur lifted his glass goblet and motioned for Merlin to cross the room to refill it. When Merlin dutifully arrived Arthur paused and made to drink the remains from the glass, carefully using the ring on his finger to smash the glass before it reached his lips.

He made a big show of leaping up to avoid the shower of glass and few drops of wine, and knocked the jug of wine in Merlin’s ready hands.

“Merlin, you absolute idiot,” He cried, “Just look what you’ve done now!”

Merlin flushed bright red, but couldn’t think of anything suitable to say other than a squeaky ‘Sorry Arth – Sire.”

Uther shot a languid gaze their way and rolled his eyes, ‘Arthur go and change – you can’t expect to stay here like that – and take that manservant of yours too. If he’s actually capable of doing something as simple as helping you change clothes!”

Arthur stormed from the hall, without giving Merlin a single glance. The boy followed meekly behind him, still holding the jug, he had to jog to catch up with Arthur after they passed the doors.

“Arthur … Hey, wait!” He cried, reaching to grab the prince by his shoulder to spin him around, “Arthur I’m sorry… Although it was really more your fault. After all, you smashed that silly goblet and knocked into….”

He was cut off as Arthur shoved him roughly against the wall and claimed his mouth with a bruising kiss. Merlin couldn’t think of anything to say as Arthur’s mouth moved down his neck, stopping where it met his shoulder and sucking hard. He cried out when he felt teeth puncture his skin but then the pain was being kissed away by soft lips and the blood licked away by a kind tongue.

He twisted his fingers in Arthur’s hair and pulled his mouth back up, getting a kick out of the metallic taste of his own blood in the Prince’s mouth. Arthur rubbed his fingers over the bite then pulled back from Merlin, lifting his hand up so the boy could see the drops of blood staining his fingers.

“ _Mine._ ” He growled out, pushing Merlin back against the wall with enough force to hit his head – hard.

Arthur restarted his assault on Merlin’s mouth; teeth, lips and tongue asserting his dominance over the all too willing servant.  
He thrust his hips against Merlin’s and was rewarded with a half-muffled moan and a hand on his arse, pulling him closer.

He pulled back again, twisting the fingers of his right hand into Merlin’s hair and pressed his face close to his; forehead to forehead, nose to nose.

“I am going to fuck you right here,” He growled, accentuating the _fuck_ , the _you_ and the here with a thrust of his hips. “I am going to make you scream so loudly, come so hard, that you forget where we are.”

Merlin groaned already, his eyes flickering shut until Arthur cracked his head against the wall. “ _Look at me._ I don’t care if people hear – I want them to hear, I want them to find us – I want them to see that you are mine,” again, he thrust against Merlin’s eager hardness with these last three words, “Because you are Merlin. Mine. And it gets me so cross to see you whoring yourself out to little pretty boys like that.”

Merlin gives a rasping, throaty laugh – he loves Arthur when he gets like this, loves to be dominated, to break through the façade that the prince has been brought up to present.

He licks his lips, the bottom one stings a protest from where Arthur nipped it, “Jealous are we, Sire?”

Arthur’s only response was to surge forward, cracking his head against the wall again and to lift Merlin up, encouraging him to wrap his legs around his waist. He fumbles for a second, trying to rearrange Merlin’s breeches to give him access to his glorious arse them gives up and tears the material, baring him to the cool castle air.

“There is no way I’m going back to that feast with a great big hole in my trousers – not if you don’t want those buggers staring at my arse – “ His protest is cut short as Arthur growls, frees his erection from the confines of his breeches and, in one smooth thrust, plunges deep into Merlin.

His groan of protest at the lack of preparation was half-hearted and soon drowned out as Arthur bites his neck again, growling, like a feral beast, against his pulse and Merlin calls out his name.

It was hot and quick, and messy. Not like this slow, loving sex of their nights. This is the assertion of dominance, authority and ownership of a partnership that has no place in their world of nuptials and wedding vows. But their cries, as the climax together are promises of _forever_ and _always_ that will mean more than any wedding vow ever could.

And they know that, as Arthur leans against Merlin, supporting both of them on the wall, and presses his forehead to the wizard’s, both men panting heavily. He presses their lips together in a chaste kiss and smiles, brushing his fingers gently over the vivid mark on Merlin’s neck.

Looking down, Merlin groans, “Now you’ve really given me a reason to wear my scarf.”

Arthur kisses him and suddenly moves away, leaving him to sink to the floor by the forgotten jug of wine. “Don’t you dare – I want people to see it.”


End file.
